Xander Harris and the Nightmare King
by pretzel-logic
Summary: Xander was four years old when he first met the Nightmare King. A tale of strange friendship over the course of Xander's childhood.
1. Age Four: A Fearful Meeting

Age Four: A Fearful Meeting

disclaimer: I don't own Buffy Joss and others do. I don't own Rise of the Guardians/ Guardians of Childhood either but, that's okay. William Joyce is doing an amazing job.

author's note: As the disclaimer says, crossover is between Rise of the Guardians and Buffy. Starring Xander and Pitch Black. timeline wise this story is pre-series and pre-movie. I have one chapter planned for each year Xander and Pitch know each other until age 16. I -might- add more if inspiration strikes. Finally, I apologize for any OOCness but honestly? I'm not going to fix it, especially where Pitch is concerned.

* * *

A four year old Xander huddled under his covers and pretended he was hiding from the Boogeyman and not from his father. Pretended that he was scared of the lurking shadows in his room rather than the loud voice of his father before. He pretended so hard it became real and then _he_ appeared.

The shadows within Xander's room seemed to darken, somehow become deeper and started to move on their own. At first Xander only saw the stranger's yellow-grey eyes and the outline of a humanoid figure. Then the shadows seem to fade away or maybe into the man. He wore a simple black robe that looked to be made out of shadow, his skin an unnatural grey. The creature's hair was as dark, if not darker, than his robe and almost feathery looking. As if his hair consisted of the feathers of crows and ravens.

"Such fear you have and yet I see one of my nightmares is not the cause. I wonder then, what could keep you awake with such terror," the dark grey skinned man spoke idly as he studied Xander. Something breaking downstairs and his mother raising her voice to match his fathers caused Xander to flinch, for a moment distracted from his unexpected visitor. "Ah," the shadow man said as he turned away from Xander to stare at the door. "What nightmares you must draw once your terror exhaust you. How _precious_."

"A-are you a monster?" Xander finally squeaked out, scared, terrified, but part of him too brave and curious and innocent to not ask.

The grey man draped in shadows startled and turned to Xander surprised. "You? You can see and hear me?"

Xander frowned even as he nodded. Maybe the strange man wasn't a monster. After all, what kind of monster showed up to ask why you were scared or if you could see and hear them? He looked scary but not as scary as Tony Harris when he was yelling and breaking stuff. "Who are you?" Xander tried asking again.

"You know who I am," the grey man smiled his teeth jagged and sharp, like a shark or a wolf. "Only those that believe in me can see me."

Believed? Like Santa Claus? But this dark shadow man wasn't Santa Claus. Santa was supposed to be big and wear red and have a beard. Was he an imaginary friend like Dropdead Fred? Dropdead Fred and his other imaginary friends looked looked silly though and not-monster guy was not silly.

"I dunno," Xander said and shrugged. "I _thought_ you were the monster under my bed but you're not a monster," Xander declared firmly, in a way only a child could.

Shadow man was so confused he actually slumped his shoulders and Xander laughed. Okay, shadow man was a little silly.

"I am Pitch Black, the Nightmare King! You should fear me! You. are. NOT. supposed. to. laugh," Pitch Black snarled suddenly. Black shadowy sand formed in his hands and in a few moments he shaped it as a nightmare and sent it at the boy that dared mock him.

With a gasp, Xander at first backed away from the nightmare before realizing it looked cool. Scary but cool, like a T-rex. "Wow," Xander breathed out and the nightmare halted its charge towards him and whinnied in confusion. Bouncing excitedly, Xander looked between Pitch and the nightmare. "Can you make other creatures? Like- like- a shark? Or a Dragon? Oh! Oh! A dinosaur!"

Pitch stared at Xander as if there was something funny with his face. Xander wanted to look but his room was too dark and he was not going to leave it or turn on a light when mommy and daddy were so angry. "You are a strange child," Pitch said slowly like some parents did to make sure their kids understood them.

"Please?" Xander begged, clasping his hands together in front of his chest as his eyes begged Pitch Black to play along.

Pitch bowed his head and pinched his nose before sighing loudly and looking up to glare at Xander. "Oh, very well," the fear spirit agreed.

For the rest of the night Xander watched amazed and only a little frightened as Pitched turned his nightmares into various scary creatures. When Xander finally slept he dreamt of being chased by all the creatures Pitch created for him. As scary as the dream was Xander never felt truly afraid because Pitch was not a monster and only monsters hurt kids.

~*~

Pitch observed the strange child as he slept with a small peacefull smile despite the nightmare prancing above his head.

What a strange child.

Pitch never met one quite like Alexander Harris in all his nights. To be so scared and to believe in him but not actually fear Pitch. Truly a unique child. The Nightmare King wondered how long this peculiarity would last. Surely the child would out grow his fears with the dawn, believe this all to be a dream brought on by less than ideal parents. If he returned tomorrow eve would the boy see him, hear him? Or would he merely be unseen and unheard, walked through if he does not watch his step?

Hard to guess, Pitch never knew how he'd be received on the Hellmouth. What fear this vile place created and what foolish ignorance allowed it to fester.

Well, tomorrow night will tell.

"_Sweet_ dreams, Alexander," Pitch mockingly murmured to the before traveling the paths of shadows to other children needing a visit from the Boogeyman.

* * *

author's end note: I try to imagine what a four year old Xander with puppy eyes would look like... and am surprised Pitch lasted as long as he did.


	2. Age Four: Pitch's Dilemma

author's note: Thank you for the reviews, favs, and alerts everyone. You're all awesome. And what do you know, inspiration struck. Well that and I realized I needed to explain why Pitch would keep visiting Xander if the child vexes him so.

* * *

Age Four: Pitch's Dilemma

Alexander not only saw Pitch when he returned the next night but smiled and greeted him. While Pitch was still reeling from surprise Xander babbled on eagerly about how he was worried it was all a dream and was so happy it wasn't and could Pitch's nightmare sand make a crocodile this time?

"Was my parting gift last night not enough to teach you I'm am to _feared_?" Pitch snappishly demanded as he pulled his hand free from Xander's grip.

Owlishly the child stared up at him in confusion. "Gift?"

"The bad dream I gave you," Pitch explained with a weary sigh as he massaged his forehead. This child was proving to be headache-inducing.

"That was from you? Cool! It was awesome! I got chased by a dragon so I ran into an ocean and then I started getting chased by a shark! And then somehow I was in the jungle with this guy who kept offering me cheese as a T. Rex tried to gobble us up," Xander regaled excitedly, slowing down in puzzlement near the end. "I don't even like cheese," the boy mutinously grumbled and Pitch could not contain a snort.

"Dreams, even bad ones, are hardly ever straight-forward and make sense," Pitch explained when Xander's gaze once more turned to him. "But were you not scared, in your dream?"

"Yeah but it was like an adventure!" Xander said as if that explained anything to Pitch.

It didn't.

"You are a strange child," Pitch said heavily once more. "Go to sleep."

"Will you give me another dream if I do?" Xander asked as he returned to his bed and looked up eagerly at Pitch.

"You want another dream from me? It won't be a good one," Pitch warned, amused despite himself.

Xander frowned thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. "But it'll be from you. And I liked the last one."

"A _very_ strange child," Pitch murmured to himself before calling forth a Nightmare and setting it upon the boy. Well, the child had _asked_ for it, so it was Alexander's fault if he did not like this bad dream as well as the last.

(break)

As it turned out, Xander enjoyed the second nightmare Pitch gave him. And the third. And all the subsequent bad dreams Pitch gave the boy as the days bled from weeks to months since their first encounter. Pitch was starting to take it as a challenge and matter of personal pride as the Nightmare King to make Alexander fear him. His continuous failure burned him.

"He believes in me but does not fear me," Pitch ranted as he paced in the woods near the entrance to his domain. "He enjoys my dreams as if they were given to him by Sanderson! He's always happy to see me. I manipulate shadows and my sands to frighten him and he just demands more, the little hellion. It makes no sense! Am I not Pitch Black? The Nightmare King? The one humanity has dubbed the boogeyman?"

He paused in his tirade to glare suspiciously in the direction of the Hellmouth. No matter how far he traveled he can always sense the yawning pit of fear and despair so quickly grown and swiftly snuffed. Well, most of the time, but he tried not to look into why there were exceptions. He learned from that mistake eons ago. The sensation was nauseating even to him and Pitch thrived off fear. Demons taint everything, apparently.

"Is he fully human?" Pitch wondered then. Sunnydale did have an exceptionally high amount of mixbreeds given its location. It was not beyond the realm of possibilities that Alexander had some demonic blood in him to explain the abnormality. Except, Pitch would be able to sense if the boy was not wholly human. Magic then? Influence of the Hellmouth?

Letting out a strangled noise of frustration, Pitch turned his gaze to his ever watchful companion. "I do not why I even bother trying to converse with you. You have not spoken once to me in the centuries we have known each other. How foolish of me to think you would deign to talk to me about a single child when you will not even explain the Guardians to me," Pitch complained, face twisting in disgust at himself and the Man in the Moon.

If Pitch wanted to figure out the enigma of Alexander Harris, he was going to have to do so alone, like always. And if the Man in the Moon's gaze was focused a little sharper on him now, well, nothing could be done about that.

* * *

author's end note: It looks like I'm leaning towards the movie's secondary canon for Pitch because a) it's easier to work with and b) only 3 of a possible 12 books have been written for the series. Though I'm going to bring in the fate of Kozmotis Pitchiner _somehow_ because it fits so nicely in the Buffyverse. _SOMEHOW_. If you lovely readers have any questions feel free to ask in reviews.


	3. Age Five: AlexXander

author's note: Willow will have to wait until next time apparently, my muse demands I explore headcanons. Again, if you have questions you're more than welcomed to ask people.

Oh! And before I forget, in case its unclear, while I use the name Xander in this chapter and previous ones Pitch has always thought/called Xander by his full name. Xander didn't become Xander until Willow named him so. I just happen to use Xander because I'm lazy. X-P Writing Alexander all the time before now was a hassle.

* * *

Age Five: Alex/Xander

Visiting Xander and attempting to visit some fear-inspiring horror upon him became routine for Pitch. Once a night, every night, Pitch would visit the young boy anywhere from a few minutes to an hour or two. The Dark Age was long gone. Adults, human ones, could no longer see Pitch and children's belief in him was fleeting. Except for Xander, puzzling child that he was. Xander was a true believer in Pitch, something the Nightmare King did not have in hundred of years. It no longer really mattered to Pitch if the boy feared him or not, as long Xander kept believing in him.

"Hello Alexander," Pitch greeted as had become customary but tonight was different.

"Xander," the boy corrected even as he smiled and waved hello.

Pitch halted his progress towards the bed and frowned confusedly at the boy. "Pardon?"

"I don't want to be called Alexander anymore. I'm just Xander now," the five year old declared, chest puffing out proudly at his 'new' name.

"No. That is a ridiculous nickname. Why by the moon would I call you _that_? You have never protested the use of your full name before," Pitch argued, brushing his sleeves as if to brush off the dust of Xander's silly name choice.

"What? Aw, come on Pitch, please!" Xander begged suddenly, clearly disappointed. Well the boy would just have to deal with disappointment.

"The subject is closed Alexander. Pleading will not change my mind," Pitch said as reasonably as he could even as he rolled his eyes. Humans and their obsessions with nicknames. Only demons and their occasionally ridiculous title were worse.

Pitch watched warily as Xander's eyes got wet, for once not desiring to make a child cry. Thankfully, Xander did not cry but instead started to scowl. He crossed his tiny arms and looked away from Pitch. It was a childish tactic, the 'cold shoulder', but it bothered Pitch. When believing was literally seeing, someone pointedly ignoring was cruel. Pitch ignored the unpleasant feeling Xander's antics were causing.

"I know you are only five but, you're being childish. Are you really going to ignore me over a name?" Pitch asked as he stood beside Xander's bed. Xander did not answer. He did not make any move or give any sign he heard Pitch.

Maybe he had not.

Pitch gained and lost believers all the time. His constantly fluctuating power base was a sickening sensation he learned to endure. Endured because nothing he did _changed_ it. He might have gotten a bit... over dramatic since the Guardians destroyed his reign over humanity's belief but most days Pitch suspected his theatrics were the only thing him from fading. Go big or go home as humans frequently said. Then Xander believed in him simply because he wanted to, continued to believe in him despite Pitch's best efforts to scare him away.

"Alexander?" Pitch tried again, caution turning his statement into a question. Xander continued to show no awareness of Pitch.

Hesitantly the Nightmare King reached out to touch the boy but froze midway. What if his hand passed _through_ Xander? Since that first unpleasant experience of being run through like he did not exist, because to the child he had not, Pitch did his best to avoid physical contact. He stuck to the late hours of the night and far away from any crowd. There was no point to wondering -fearing- until Pitch tried.

He sighed loudly, almost explosively, with relief when his hand landed firmly on Xander's small shoulder. It hardly mattered that the hand was immediately shrugged off. Xander still believed in him, he was still _real_ to the boy. However, the problem still remained. Pitch was _not_ going to use that ridiculous nickname and Xander was not going to relent in his antics unless Pitch acted like a mature adult and fixed things.

Sometimes being a millennia old fear spirit surviving off the belief of children had its downfalls.

"How about a compromise," Pitch suggested gently, sitting down on the bed and pulling a reluctant, though curious, Xander onto his lap. "I'll give you a nickname, a different one. I'll call you that instead of Alexander... or Xander."

Xander looked up at him thoughtfully, neck bent at a painful looking angle to do so. "Okay, what're you going to call me?" the boy asked almost excitedly.

"Well, I could call you Brat after you're behavior tonight," Pitch dryly teased and refrained from laughing at Xander's loud protests. "But I know that particular nickname is rather common. Would a simple Alex suffice or must I get creative?"

"Alex works," Xander said with a happy smile. "Thanks Pitch."

"My dear strange child, that was far more hassle than it needed to be. Next time, _Alex,_ just ask," Pitch chided as he settled the child back to bed. "Now that we have that settled, how was your first day of Kindergarten?"

"It was awesome! I met Willow, she named me Xander, and a bunch of other kids! Cordelia's really bossy and Larry's big but nice," Xander happily rambled and Pitch remained for a time to listen. When he bid the boy to sleep he took a moment to brush his hair before leaving a nightmare behind.

It was a few weeks later Xander noticed Pitch developed a habit of ruffling or combing his hair at least once a night. Like Pitch was checking he was really there.

* * *

Author's end note: Got to see some of Pitch's parenting skills this chapter. Not sure how to feel about it, 'D'aw' maybe.


	4. Age Five: Willow

author's note: So poll time! After this fic I plan to write a sequel actually dealing with the events of BtVS and RotG but I'm on the fence about whether Xander can still see Pitch by the time Welcome to the Hellmouth and Harvest end. So I'm putting it to vote. It's on/in my profile.

About grammar... this is from five year old's perspectives, grammar's a work in progress for them.

* * *

Age Five: Willow

Willow liked Xander. He was really nice to her on their first day of kindergarten together and he was fun to play with. Although, she did not like how much Xander enjoyed scaring people, especially her.

"You're being mean," Willow scolded eventually, after Xander got her to shriek loudly by jumping out at her from behind a shelf in the play area.

"Am not," Xander argued quickly, laughter stopping as he he noticed how hard Willow was fighting back tears.

"Yes you are! You're always telling scary stories and-and jumping out at people to scare them. That's mean!" Willow yelled, unaware of the attention she was drawing on the two.

"I'm just being scary. I like being scary, like the Boogeyman," Xander explained quietly, looking hurt. "Getting scared is fun."

"No, it's not! You're being mean! I don't want to be your friend if you keep being mean," Willow cried, tears finally pouring from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Xander said softly even as a teacher finally came over to see what was going on.

(break)

Xander stopped scaring Willow after that and anyone else that told him to stop. There were a few boys and Cordelia that seemed to get it was just a game to Xander. They let him continue to scare them and even tried to scare Xander back. It was fun. Cordelia and Tucker were really good at scaring Xander.

One time Cordelia did not even do anything. She just put her hands on her hips and glared at Xander until he ran away from her. She was scary like that. Xander wondered if she could scare even Pitch, he liked to see her try.

"Why do you like scaring people and getting scared so much?" Willow asked one day after Xander sat down next her laughing over how he and Jonathan managed to scare Larry so badly he jumped almost twice his height in the air.

"I told you," Xander said exasperated, rolling his eyes. "It's fun!"

"But why?" Willow demanded, just wanting to understand.

Xander frowned and bit his lip. He did not know how to answer that. Pitch scared Xander and children all the time, it was what he did. Xander wanted to be like Pitch who was creepy and silly and nice and not loud and angry and mean and smelly like his father was. As scary as Pitch got Xander knew he was safe with Pitch. When his dad got scary Xander never knew if was he safe. Xander wished Pitch was his dad.

"Because it's safe," Xander finally decided. "Pitch makes scary stuff safe."

"Pitch?" Willow frowned, confused by the name. She never heard of a Pitch before.

Xander suddenly smiled as he got an idea. He would tell Willow about Pitch! Then the two could become friends and Willow would get why scary stuff was fun and safe.

"He's the Boogeyman. He likes to hide under beds and in closets and scare kids. He's tall and made out of shadows and has gold glowy eyes," Xander explained, waving his arms about excitedly.

Willow's face scrunched up like she swallowed a lemon. "The Boogeyman isn't _real_ Xander," Willow scolded, taking on her bossy tone whenever she thought she knew better than him (she usually did).

"Yes he does," Xander argued, surprised Willow did not believe.

"Nuh-uh. Mommy and daddy told me he was just a bad dream. A fig- a fig- something I made up," Willow explained, her parents knew everything. Maybe if she knew everything they'd like her more.

"_No_, Pitch makes the bad dreams. He calls 'em nightmare and they're black horses made from sand," Xander insisted, bothered that Willow didn't believe in Pitch. Scared she was going to make him not believe too. He didn't like this fear.

"Xander, the boogeyman isn't real!" Willow snapped.

"Yes he is and he's my bestest friend ever!" Xander yelled before stomping away. Willow was being stupid. Xander knew Pitch for _forever_, of course he was real. He named Xander Alex and visited him every night. Pitch was his friend, his best friend.

Pitch was real.

He had to be.

(break)

Xander sat on his bed, legs crossed 'indian' style as he waited for Pitch to show. He was going to show. Willow was stupid and Pitch was real.

Except Willow wasn't usually stupid and Pitch was usually here by now. Was Willow right? Was Pitch- no, Pitch was real. Pitch was real. Pitch was real.

Willow was wrong and stupid and mean for making Xander think Pitch might not be real. Because Pitch was real and he was going to visit.

But where was he? Why wasn't Pitch here _now_? The sun set ages ago.

Xander scrubbed his face, refusing to cry. Dad did not like it when Xander cried, called him a sissy and a crybaby. Pitch did not care if Xander cried but he wasn't here. Where was he?

"My, my, Alex. You're awfully frightened toni-oof!" Pitch never managed to finish as Xander leapt from his bed into Pitch.

With a soft thump they crashed to the floor, Xander crying as he clutched at Pitch's robe. They stayed sprawled on the floor like that for a few moments. Then Pitch carefully wrapped his arms around Xander in a feather-light hug, one hand brushing through Xander's hair as he cried.

"Strange child, what happened? It is unlike you to be distraught. Was it your father?" Pitch inquired softly.

Xander shook his head but did not remove it from Pitch's robe. "Willow said you weren't _real_," he managed eventually.

Pitch hugged him tightly at that, pausing in hand combing Xander's hair. "I see," was all he said at first before he started combing Xander's hair once more but kept him close. "Alex, to her and many children I'm not real."

"What does that mean?" Xander demanded, lifting his head finally to look at Pitch. He did not care if his eyes were puffy from crying and nose runny though Pitch smiled briefly in amusement.

"I told you once, when we first met. You have to _believe_ in me to see me. As long as you think I'm real, I am. The moment you stop thinking so... " Pitch explained but trailed off softly.

"Pitch?" Xander asked because Pitch looked sad and _scared_ and Pitch never looked scared.

"I become a ghost. I'll still be here but you won't see or here me. If I tried to hug you, you'd go through me like I was air. It doesn't hurt but it's a horrible feeling," Pitch explained, eyes distant.

That sounded scary. Not the fun scary Xander liked at school or the safe scary that was Pitch. It sounded sad and lonely. And Xander did not like the idea of Pitch going away. He wanted Pitch to be around forever.

"I won't stop believing. Never ever," Xander promised.

Pitch smiled but it was sad and he laughed but it wasn't happy. "Everyone stops believing in the 'Boogeyman' eventually, Alex."

"Well I won't," Xander sniffled.

Pitch huffed amused and used the shadows to bring him a tissue box. He helped Xander clean his face and settled the boy into his bed.

"We'll see," Pitch finally agreed.

* * *

Alternatively, the other title for this chapter is 'Pitch is a Bad Influence'. So it's minor but the beginnings of canon divergence has begun. Also, sorry for beating a dead horse about the belief issue but uh, it's kind of the central issue of this story.


	5. Age Six: No Such Thing

author's note: Okay, so this is the chapter that started it all, that inspired me to write this whole she-bang. My muse also reminded me that Pitch is a _fear_ spirit. He should probably do something besides give nightmares to a child that _likes_ them. Thus, the first two paragraphs.

* * *

Age Six: No Such Thing

Pitch missed the Industrial Era; London was so much _darker_ then. Why, on particularly rainy days the sky was overcast enough that he could spend the entire day there if he wished it. Not that he ever did but the promise of it had been nice all the same. Factory children had such potent nightmares as well; horrid dreams of losing limbs or dying from the very machines they controlled.

Now, Pitch was stuck traveling in the shadows by day and waiting for night to fall. At least the rain-thick clouds made traversing the city before dusk a little easier. It was early enough to scare tourist and natives alike away from unwelcoming, though harmless, alleyways. In the Underground he was the monstrous visions people saw on the other side of the racing train's windows, warning them of the _real_ monsters in the dark.

When the promised rain started to fall however, Pitch was left with little to amuse himself in the city. He could go elsewhere, where it _was_ night until it was late enough to visit Xander. Strange how his days revolved around the boy nowadays. Pitch could not deny the attachment he felt towards his only true believer. It pained him to leave the boy in such squalor on the _Hellmouth_ but he was not allowed to interfere. No spirits were as long as The Powers decreed the fate of humanity.

Still, the Guardians pushed against the limits of their restrictions and it was not in Pitch's nature to play nice. The only question remained was, how could he look after Xander without The Powers crying foul? At least the man in the Moon did not care, as far as Pitch could tell, with his close ties to Xander.

A whimper and inhuman fear drew Pitch's attention further down the alleyway he lurked in as he schemed. Curiosity drove Pitch into inspecting the tattered and rain-soaked box the noise came from. Inside it was perhaps the most hideous mutt of a puppy Pitch ever saw. It's shaggy coat was matted, covered in filth and already smelling to high heaven. He couldn't guess the breed, it was more than likely a mix, but the size and hair indicated some kind of terrier. Large soulful brown eyes stared up at Pitch just barely through the fur on its face and its pitiful tail started to wag so strongly its whole body shook.

It reminded him of Xander, especially those eyes.

Children like animals, don't they?

(break)

Pitch looked down at the bathed and groomed puppy, feeling satisfied and proud of his efforts. The wretched thing actually looked presentable. Though its fondness for licking Pitch's fingers was becoming irritating. Did nothing fear him properly anymore?

At least its fearlessness made the mutt suitable for Xander.

"Hey Pitch," the six year old greeted from the desk where he was doing his homework. The boy became rather studious after Pitch expressed an interest in what the boy was learning. Almost nightly Xander proudly showed off his well-graded homework and tests, when he had them. Pitch did not understand the boy's need for his approval but he gave it regardless. "You're here early," Xander added as he finished the last of his homework and turned to the Nightmare King.

Pitch shrugged, not sure how to respond to such a statement. "I brought a gift," he said instead holding out the stubbornly finger-licking puppy.

"Whoa- a puppy! You got me a puppy!?" Xander excitedly exclaimed as he rushed over to examine the animal. The boy's eyes had grown large like North's, full of wonder Pitch supposed, as he carefully took the dog from Pitch's hands. With a sneer of disgust Pitch grabbed a tissue and did his best to remove dog slobber from his hands.

"I'm glad you like her," Pitch said simply as he watched the two bond. This could hardly be considered interfering, North gave children _multiple_gifts annually if they were on the 'nice' list. Pitch felt rather accomplished with himself until Xander suddenly looked sad. "Alex?"

"I can't keep her. Mom and Dad won't let me Pitch. I-I want to but they'll just make me get rid of her," Xander complained, on the verge of crying.

Well, he knew there was a flaw in his plan somewhere. Sighing, Pitch accepted the puppy back and frowned in thought on what to do... and the puppy was also back to licking his fingers.

"I suppose I could leave her at North's. His security is horrible and it's close enough to Christmas I'm sure he'll find a home for her," Pitch mused aloud.

"North's?" Xander asked confused, head-tilting slightly to the side as he tried to see Pitch's bowed face.

"Santa Claus," Pitch amended absently as he twiddled his fingers to watch the puppy try to use her paws to hold them still. Now he was getting attached to the wretched thing.

Xander's expression twisted strangely in disbelief and puzzlement. "But there's no such thing as Santa Claus."

Pitch froze. His whole body felt as if it had been turned to stone. He had to be hearing things, imagined those words. Slowly Pitch raised his head to stare at Xander, eyes possibly wide with wonder. If wonder felt like being hit on the bead by a heavy object.

"What?" Pitch managed to choke out. "You don't- you _don't believe_ in Santa Claus?"

Cautiously Xander nodded. "So? Neither does Willow but she says that's cause she's jewish."

Pitch laughed then, little more than a puff of air leaving his mouth with a "hah". Then he laughed again a little longer than the first. Soon he was laughing uncontrollably, practically crying from mirth as he clutched the helpless puppy to his chest.

"You're weird," Xander stated once Pitch stopped laughing.

"What about the Easter Bunny? The Tooth Fairy? Sandman?" Pitch asked as he set down the puppy and grabbed Xander's shoulders. He could not fight the grin growing across your face.

"Uh, no?" Xander said cautiously, watching Pitch warily. "Who's the Sandman?"

Pitch bit his lip and bowed his head, shoulders shaking as he contained another bout of laughter. Gratefully, Pitch hugged Xander.

"You're a treasure, Alex," Pitch said eventually.

"Pitch, you're acting really weird," Xander complained.

"Well, it's not everyday I come across a child that believes in me but not the Guardians," Pitch explained. Last time was more than likely in the Dark Ages when such a thing did not matter.

"Who?" Xander asked.

Pitch opened his mouth to explain but then paused. Why should he help the Guardians gain another believer, _his_ believer? If Xander did not already know there was no need to tell him.

"It does not matter," Pitch said instead, after a moment. He let go of Xander and picked up the puppy once more. "Since you can't keep her, perhaps I will for you," Pitch commented idly, secretly pleased he managed to distract Xander. "You have to name her though. Pick a good one."

Xander smiled as he petted the puppy and thought carefully. Eventually he smirked up at Pitch, expression positively devious. "Bratty," he declared.

Pitch laughed, remembering just where the name came from. "A fine choice," he agreed.

* * *

I so wish i didn't need the puppy for this 'chapter'. Necessary mcguffin.


	6. Age Six: Thoughts

author's note: Xander makes me laugh in this one. It's just... he gets things _so_ wrong. Anyways, sorry this one is so short but, it felt repetitive as it was.

* * *

Age Six: Thoughts

Xander was not stupid. He might not be as smart as Willow, no one seemed as smart as Willow, but he was not stupid. Pitch acted really weird after he learned Xander did not believe in Santa Claus. Xander knew a lot of kids believed in Santa and _really_ did not like it when you told them Santa was make-believe. But Pitch, Pitch just laughed and was so happy that Xander did not.

Maybe Santa was like Pitch. You had to believe in Pitch in order to see him so maybe you had to believe in Santa in order to see Santa. Except Santa _never_ gets spotted. He always hid from kids. Maybe Santa does not like being believed in, all the kids trying to catch him must make Christmas hard. The same must be true of the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Pitch must be weird for liking Xander.

Xander decided then and there if Santa and the others did not like being believed in then Xander would not.

They probably weren't real anyways and Pitch was just happy someone else knew that.

But who was the Sandman? Pitch never answered him.

"Who's the Sandman?" Xander asked Willow because she probably knew. Willow seemed to know everything (except that Pitch was real).

The red head frowned thoughtfully at Xander's question, growing sad. "I don't know," she admitted quietly, feeling defeated. It seemed like every day there was more and more she needed to learn. Once she knew everything her parents were sure to be proud of her. Yet she did not know the answer to Xander's question and she tried so hard to always know the answers for him. "I know where to look though!" she added quickly, eager to at least help Xander find the answer. Then they would both know it.

"The library?" Xander guessed and sighed when Willow nodded happily. He did not like the library. The librarian was still mad at Xander for spilling his dad's drink on one of the books he borrowed and dad was still mad about it too. The librarian liked Willow though so maybe Xander would be okay if they went together and Willow asked all the questions.

(break)

The Sandman turned out to be like Pitch. Except the books said he gave _good_ dreams to kids with his dream sand. And left dream sand in your eyes. Xander did not believe the last part. He's pretty sure that's just eye gunk. Like when you get pink eye but not as bad. ... Did the Sandman give kids pink eye? Or maybe another sand spirit did.

Still, Pitch said he gave nightmares, he was the nightmare king, even if Xander did not think his dreams were that bad. So it made sense, kind of, that someone else gave kids dreams as well. Maybe Pitch and the sandman were brothers that did not get along. All the kids that Xander knew complained about how annoying their siblings were.

Or maybe Pitch and Sandman were rivals competing for children's dreams. Pitch seemed like a sore loser, maybe the Sandman usually gives kids more dreams than Pitch.

Maybe the Sandman was like Santa and the others and did not like being believed in.

Xander did not know and decided if Sandman and the others were real they must not like kids. It's not like Xander has heard any other kids talk about meeting or even seeing them.

Xander thought Pitch must be jealous; he's real and wants to be believed in but kids rather believe in people that don't exist. Or worse, kids believed in people that didn't even like them.

* * *

This is what happens when The Guardians "are very busy bringing joy to children! We don't have time... for children." Just saying.


	7. Age Six: Black Puppy

author's note: Sorry for the hiatus people but I was part-timing work and college and had some big papers due in May I spent most of April scrambling to write about in a timely fashion. That said, for those who know Mother Nature from the books, I tried. I really, really, tried to do her character justice. For those that don't know who Mother Nature is, trust me, there's reasons she's the way she is.

* * *

Age Six: Black Puppy

It's not Pitch's fault.

Except that it was.

So it wasn't Pitch's _intentional_ fault.

That didn't sound much better.

"Blast," Pitch grumbled as he slowly rubbed a hand down his face. _How_ was he going to explain this to Xander? "I'm sorry Alex but I accidentally created a monster? No, that won't do. Listen, Alex, about Bratty... no, no, he'll think I killed the poor girl," Pitch said to himself folding his arms behind his back as he started to pace.  
He only paused a moment to stare at the... unintentional horror he created from Xander's puppy. Pitch didn't even know his powers could _do_this. Puzzled by her master's antics, Bratty's ears drooped and her tail stopped wagging quite so fiercely. That was about all that remained familiar. What was once a living animal now closely resembled his nightmares. Bratty now looked to be made entirely out of black sand and shadows with unnerving red eyes.

Accidentally killing the puppy seemed like a kinder fate but... was it wrong Pitch was relieved he no longer had to worry about house training and how to get the puppy all her vaccinations? It was not like he could go to a human run veterinarian and demonically run ones were even less possible. One thing to raise the animal for Xander, another to show such weakness to a society that thrived on taking advantage of such things.

Shaking his head, Pitch forced himself to focus on the problem at hand. Bratty was no longer a normal puppy. Pitch was not sure he could fix this, if _anyone_ could fix this. Except perhaps...

"She'll sooner attack me than let me explain," Pitch grumbled and then slumped his posture in defeat.

She was only one besides the Man in the Moon that could help and seeing how the guardian of Childhood never talked to Pitch once...

"Mother Nature it is."

(break)

It's a lot easier for Mother Nature to find Pitch than it was for the Nightmare King to locate her. In part because she's always keeping an eye on the fear spirit; waiting and hoping beyond reason. The past two years were both a great comfort and a slap in the face. Pitch Black was finally, finally, not so hell-bent on ruling the world with fear and it was all thanks to him becoming a surrogate _father_ to his believer. Being jealous of a now six year old should be beneath her. She guessed Aster was right when he accused her of being petty.

"You've been wandering the woods calling for me for some time Pitch Black. What do you want?" she snapped at him. She was in no mood to deal with the creature's dramatics if this was simply Pitch's version of a social call.

Was it just her imagination or was he blushing? Mother Nature stared. He was! And shuffling his feet like a small child caught in the middle of mischief. Despite herself, she was growing curious to see what could make Pitch act so _different_ from his usual self.

"I- had a small mishap. One I am hoping your area of expertise can remedy," Pitch said hesitantly, his usually silver tongue failing him.

Before she demanded an answer better than that Pitch brought forth a puppy. At least, it was a puppy once, more shadow and black sand than living creature now. Suddenly, Pitch's request for her aid made sense but why did he care? Why was Pitch trying to get the damage he caused reversed instead of _using_ it? It went against his usual pragmatism.

"What were you doing with a puppy to begin with?" she asked as she accepted the strange creature from Pitch.

Pitch refused to meet her gaze, blushing deeper and coughing embarrassedly into his hand. "She was- ah, a gift. One that I held onto when she could not be kept. I'm not sure what happened exactly to cause... _this_. I was away from my lair at the time."

So the puppy was meant for the boy and Pitch kept her for the boy's sake. Now his powers corrupted the poor thing and Pitch was _looking for help_ because she was technically the _boy's_. The feeling of being comforted and slapped in the face returned again. It surprised her, how honestly disappointed she felt that she could not help.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, as if saying it any louder would make it less true. "But I cannot undo your c-" She squashed her sympathy at the reminder of just _what_ Pitch was. "Your influence on the animal. If I did I would have seen you dead ages ago." She did not need to add that last part but she felt a reminder that she did _not_ like Pitch Black was needed. "Be grateful the animal's nature is still her own and not bent to your fear-mongering petty ways."

Pitch accepted the animal back, face twisting as if he swallowed a lemon. "There is no need to be so aggressive, my dear. Not when I have done you no wrongs," Pitch snapped.

His ignorance was infuriating.

"You're _existence_ does me wrong with every ungrateful breath you take! You should not be, Pitch Black and yet you linger like a ghost unwilling to accept your end! For your sake, do not call upon me again," Mother Nature said sharply in turn, letting a strong gust of wind carry her away from the repulsive man.

When she was sure she was alone, or at least no spirits were in the area, she carefully pulled out the locket she kept on a thin gold chain under her high collar. Without opening it, she stared blankly at the seemingly harmless trinket. It was a heavy burden she kept dangling from her neck despite its physical weightlessness. It was so tempting to destroy the locket or simply throw it away. For a brief moment she held the locket tightly, thin chain ready to snap before she carefully tucked the locket away once more.

This reality and its subsequent burdens were her choosing. Discarding or destroying the locket accomplished nothing and keeping it might yet prove useful. All that was left for her to do was wait and hope an otherwise _insignificant_ human child could do what she could not.

(break)

As the wind died Pitch scowled as Mother Nature practically fled his presence. Good riddance. He was never sure _why_ but the other spirit made his insides itch and feel like a part of him was struggling through tar. There was just something about her dark brown, practically black, hair, her face, and her storm grey eyes that unsettled him. It felt like reveling in the children's fears, especially of him, was the only way to cleanse himself of the unpleasant sensations.

He visited Xander instead.

"Pitch! You're earl- whoa. What did you do to Bratty?" the boy asked, staring wide-eyed at the unusual animal Pitch _forgot_ he was carrying. Though not for long as the puppy leapt from Pitch's arms and excitedly greeted Xander with yipping barks and licking.

"There was a little... mishap. Bratty is still herself; just a spirit instead of living creature now," Pitch explained, finally relaxing over the issue as Xander seemed surprised but otherwise indifferent to the dog's new status.

"Cool! Does this mean I can keep her now? I can keep her, right? Please Pitch," Xander begged.

Stars and Moon, two sets of eyes that soulfully pleading should be impossible. Especially since Bratty's were now a _demonic red_.

"Not yet," Pitch managed, impressed with himself. "I'm not sure what all Bratty is capable of now. I'll put her through her paces and make sure she can control any new abilites she has first."

Xander looked between Bratty and Pitch several times before grinning broadly. "I'm going to have a super-powered monster-dog for a pet. Pitch, this is the best early birthday gift ever!"

Birthday gift? But the boy's birthday was not until- "Your birthday is in two weeks? Time certainly passes quickly," Pitch said more to himself than Xander. Dealing daily with a mortal child certainly made the days pass swifter but, at the same time, made them more significant. Pitch had trouble deciding if he liked his new perspective of time or not.

"Yeah," Xander agreed, nodding his head to Pitch's rhetoric question. "Will I- Are you- Can you visit for my birthday?"

"I'm rather sensitive to sunlight these days, too many years in only darkness," Pitch explained gently, hating to see how disappointed Xander grew. "I'll see you that night, Alex. Save me some cake and we'll have another little party, just the two of us. Does that sound good?"

Xander remained silent, head bowed as he nodded and clutched Bratty a little tighter to him. With a sigh, Pitch sat down on Xander's bed and pulled the boy into his arms. Pitch could keep apologizing to the boy and make promises of future visits but, hugging Xander seemed to prove a greater comfort, to the both of them.

"Are you done your homework?" Pitch asked cautiously when Xander started to grow sleepy.

"Yeah, in bookbag," Xander affirmed, snuggling into Pitch's chest. "Your robe is comfy."

Pitch chuckled. "Of course it is, why do you think I wear it all the time? I think it's your bedtime, Alex," he said as he settled the boy under his covers, brushing Xander's hair once done.

"Nightmare?" Xander sleepily requested as Bratty squirmed out of his arms to settle on the end of the bed.

"Strange child," Pitch said in a huff as he summoned the Nightmare tasked in delivering Xander's bad dreams. With an almost affection whiny Onyx settled above Xander's head, practically prancing as she created the boy's latest dream.

Pitch studied the Nightmare for a moment. Xander certainly had a peculiar effect on Pitch and his creations. Pitch spent the past two years, almost three now, watching Xander grow and change. For the first time Pitch wondered how Xander was changing him.

With a shrug, Pitch decided it did not matter, he was happy. Something he had not been in several centuries. Whatever Xander was changing him to be it was worth it.

* * *

end note: Once again, feel free to ask any questions you have. I'll asnwer to the best of my ability.


	8. Age Seven: Clowns

author's note: Damn it. I got the b-days mixed up. it was Xander's sixth birthday that had the clown issue and his seventh that his neighbors' house caught fire. It's not a -huge- deal but I'm anal retentive about these things. So, because I want this scene at this age, I'm bumping backstory canon of Buffy around.

* * *

**Age Seven: Clowns**

When Pitch arrived in Xander's room he expected a warm greeting. He expected for Xander to be on some sort of sugar high from earlier festivities and babbling excitedly about all his presents.

Instead the room was dark, not even a nightlight left on, and for a moment Pitch wondered if Xander fell asleep waiting for him. It had happened more than once in the past since the concept of time was still a hard one for Pitch to grasp. Pitch was a spirit, practically immortal, and his purpose was to spread fear and nightmares to the children of the world. Keeping track of time was an exercise in frustration for Pitch when he traveled with the night but Xander, when he was awake to greet him, made his efforts worthwhile.

A quick glance at the clock, that was more for Pitch's use than Xander's, confirmed it was only nine. Pitch was early. He was starting to feel a sense of disappointment when sniffling from Xander's bed informed him the boy was awake.

"Alex?" Pitch inquired quietly as he walked towards the bed and took in Xander's distraught face. For a moment Pitch was reminded of that obnoxious song about crying at parties and wondered if crying on birthdays was normal for humans. Xander hadn't cried last year when he regaled to him the events of his neighbors house catching fire.

"Hi Pi-Pitch," Xander hastily greeted, sitting up in bed and hastily rubbing at his eyes to dry them.

"What happened?"Pitch asked as kindly as he could as settled on the bed and put a comforting arm around the boy.

For a long time Xander did not speak, clearly embarrassed to admit whatever happened to make him cry. Pitch decided he could wait the boy out, it never took Xander long to open up to him. At least, not by Pitch's standards.

"Dad hired a clown for my birthday," Xander mumbled so quietly Pitch had to listen carefully to even make out the boy's words.

"What does a clown have to do with this?" Pitch asked puzzled.

Xander glanced up at Pitch nervously before looking down as his hands twisted the fabric of his blankets. "I... I don't like clowns."

Silence echoed in the room as the meaning behind Xander's words sunk in.

Pitch was incredulous. "You mean to tell me, you're afraid... of clowns?"

"They're creepy!" Xander insisted instantly. "Weird hair and creepy laughs! They're like the Joker but worse!"

Pitch pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he accepted reality. He long stopped trying to find something that truly scared Xander; thinking there was nothing that could frighten the boy. Xander did feel fear, like any healthy human should, but that never seemed to stop the boy. At first such a characteristic frustrated Pitch to no end until Xander grew on him. Now, after all this time, to find out the boy did in fact fear something and it was clowns of all things?

Pitch needed a moment.

"Clowns?" Pitch questioned once more, flatly. All of his feelings carefully kept out of his tone. He did not want Xander to think he thought less of the boy for his fear and yet the boy frowned at him.

"Make a clown with your sand," Xander practically demanded. "You'll see," he said stubbornly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Amused by how fierce Xander was trying to be despite being only seven, Pitch complied. It was not a perfect caricature of a clown given the fact that Pitch's sand only came in one color but it was close enough. As Pitch studied it, he started to see why children would see clowns as frightening. Throw on some color and give the clown North's laugh and Pitch could understand how... distressing clowns could be to anyone in their right mind. Even he was starting to find his nightmare sand clown disturbing.

Hunching its back, giving the clown claws and teeth of an angler fish only made the image worse. Besides him Xander squeaked in distress and Pitch sensed a spike of fear from the boy. Xander wold never like a nightmare that contained clowns in it; normal or demonic. After not quite three years Pitch finally knew how to _truly_ scare the child.

He dispersed the sand containing the clown image without thought. "I see," Pitch admitted and Xander smiled broadly at him with relief and trust. "I'm sorry your birthday went so badly."

"It's okay. I mean dad was angry but things were good after mom made the clown leave," Xander explained, leaning so he rested against Pitch's side. "Only Larry and Cordy really made fun of me."

"I see," Pitch murmured as he debated giving the two children nightmares. It was petty, he knew that, but he did not like to see his believer so distraught.

"No nightmares," Xander ordered, swatting at Pitch's arm. The Nightmare King laughed, the boy boy was starting to know him all too well.

"Very well. I'm almost done training Bratty. As far as I can tell she is safe for you to keep and if you need me you can send her to alert me," Pitch explained quietly, letting Xander grow tired.

Xander grinned even as he yawned and laid back down. "Bratty's my guard dog?"

_The world is much darker than you suspect, even knowing of me. Your hometown especially_. "She can't hurt humans, Alex. I just meant if you're in trouble or simply wish to talk of a night, Bratty will be able to let me know," Pitch explained instead.

"But most humans can't see you," Xander pointed out, frowning.

"I can still give them fear," Pitch said simply. He was not really about human troubles given Sunnydale's true population. "Do you want a nightmare tonight?" It was a strange question to ask. Usually Pitch gave children bad dreams whether they wanted them or not. Usually Xander asked for them. Tonight was simply not a usual night with his peculiar believer.

"No clowns?"

"No clowns," Pitch promised. It was an easy promise to keep.


	9. Age Seven: Tooth

author's note: sorry for the wait. An injury and then crazy RL kept me busy. Also I wasn't expecting Tooth to make it into this story at all. But here she is.

* * *

Age Seven: Tooth

The sun was setting upon the Himalayas and, within the mountain chain's peaks, Punjam Hy Loo. The Tooth Fairy palace was buzzing with constant activity of tiny fairies delivering teeth and flying off with coins to collect yet another lost tooth. Normally, Toothiana, Queen of the Fairies, would be in the center of her palace directing her small army. Normally, memories contained in a tooth did not alarm her.

Toothiana collected children's teeth because they contained the memories of childhood. She kept them safe and stored them in enchanted puzzle boxes, activating the memories whenever someone needed a reminder the world had good in it.

She never expected a child to have good memories of Pitch Black. Not after the end of the Dark age. It made a sort of twisted sense that the only child in centuries to remember Pitch Black positively lived on the Hellmouth.

Carefully Tooth rested Xander's lost tooth against her forehead and accessed the memories contained within.

(break)

Screams of terrified children growing into cries of outrage as they realized once more Xander had pranked them. Laughing unrepentantly the boy ran away from his peers shouting, "Happy Halloween!"

...

Xander playing catch with a dog made from dark shadows rather than living flesh. Eventually urging the dog home with him to await Pitch.

...

Pitch looming over Xander, not to frighten him, but, help coach him through his homework. The Nightmare King smiling softly but proudly as he praised the boy for getting a correct answer. A smile lighting up the boy's face in return.

...

A sick-relief that Tony Harris was working a late shift and Jessica brought home Chinese instead of attempting to cook. Did Xander even realize he no longer saw his parents as his father and mother?

...

A worried teacher's aid pulling Xander aside. "Don't take this the wrong way kiddo, but, aren't you a little old to be believing in the Boogeyman?" the young man asked with a friendly smile.

_He hates that name. _Xander wanted to say but bit his tongue. This wasn't the first time he was asked this question but it was the first time he realized it's best to lie.

...

Biting his lip worriedly, Xander set down his pencil and looked up at Pitch. The fear spirit watched him patiently, obviously curious why Xander stopped working on his homework.

"Am I... am I going to wake up one day and not believe in you? Like *poof*! Magic? Cause I'll be 'too old'?" Xander blurted out curiously.

Pitch was obviously surprised but grew thoughtful as he considered Xander's question. "No," He said finally, ruffling Xander's hair. "The magic that allows you to see me is based on belief. As long as you believe, you'll see me. It's just... harder to keep believing as you grow up. I've told you before believing is seeing. Adults tend to think the opposite, that seeing is believing. Adults used to believe in me as easily as children but, ... times change and that is a story for another time."

"When?" Xander asked more curious than anything.

Pitch smiled, amused. "When you're older," he promised and Xander finally stopped worrying about the future with a smile and a laugh.

(stupid format errors)

With a sigh Tooth handed off the tooth for safekeeping to one of her fairies hovering nearby. She had so many questions now. Were they, the Guardians, wrong about Pitch? Was it right of them to destroy humanity's belief in Pitch Black? Should they have tried to reason with him more before they did? Would it have made a difference? Who was Xander Harris to Pitch? Was he like that boy from centuries ago, a curiosity to study before abandoning? Or something more? Did Mother Nature know?

Tooth gave a small huff of a laugh at that last question. Of course Mother Nature knew, she always had an eye on Pitch. Not that Tooth could blame her, a lot was riding on Mother Nature saving the fear spirit. Was it her idea to find a child for Pitch to bond with?

"No," Tooth murmured to herself. "She would have used a girl if it was her idea..." Curiously, Tooth looked up at the moon just starting to climb above the horizon. "Was this your plan?" she asked.

Only silence answered her.

With a frown, Tooth considered options. She'd keep her silence on the matter, for now. However, if Pitch became a problem again she'd tell the other Guardians about Xander. It was important they learn Pitch wasn't beyond saving though Tooth did not think the 'Boogeyman' would be a problem.

She can't recall the last time she saw Pitch so happy.

* * *

end notes: So I honestly thought Sandy would be the first Guardian to find out about Xander and Pitch. Tooth decided otherwise. To the Buffy-only fans reading this; sorry I didn't describe much of Tooth's palace, it's just a really hard to describe location. As explained in this chapter to a degree, Toothiana aka Tooth is the Tooth Fairy (well the Queen of them) and is the Guardian of Memories. She uses baby teeth children lose to help bolster their belief in the Guardians as well as help adults remember how to be children (this second part is more a big deal in the books given her background).


End file.
